"I'd rather be a wannabee than a hasbeen"
Which makes no sense to anyone but me.
Within Mr Herring's blog, I read and followed a book recommendation. This was the book I bought for virtually nothing from Better World Books. It was What's Not To Love by Jonathan Ames. I was led to believe that this was an hilarious book. It's not hilarious, though it is well written and witty-thru-funny in places. It's probably best described as a personality book and it's exceedingly priapic. Perhaps exaggerated for artistic effect, or, more likely, not exaggerated because life's just like that for some people, reading this book is the equivalent of allowing the author to display his ardour in much the way an enthusiastic dog might borrow your leg for some action.
Perhaps unlike the dog encounter which may be embarrassing, or, dependent on the size of dog, either weirdly comical or plain frightening, the book is enjoyable, but it's clearly the writing equivalent of onanism and reading it is a bit like being the tissue. But in a good way.
I suspect that reading this blog probably feels similarly compromising, sometimes. Bless you for sticking with it. Whoever you are? I know you're out there. I have statistics.